The Man Of Metropolis Steals Our Bus Pass
Superman, much like a college sophomore, is embarking on a road trip from Philadelphia to Portland in order to, like, get in touch with the real America, you know? So if you’ve ever always wondered why Superman never fights crime in Salt Lake City, DC has started an essay contest so that you can request that the man of steel stops by your hometown.
If you live within 50 miles of Chicago, Des Moines, Omaha, Denver, Salt Lake, Las Vegas, Las Angeles, Portland, or Seattle and can pose as a wide-eyed, innocent 8-year-old, you can submit an essay to DC, who’ll plan the man of tomorrow’s route accordingly. If you live in New England, or the South, you’re out of luck, but everyone knows the real America is in the boring square states, right?
PS. Didn’t Captain America do this in the 70’s?
This Week In NPH
So I officially resolved to kill my boss, Dan, out of jealousy today, because he got to spend all of yesterday hanging out at the Smurfs set with Neil Patrick Harris and Hank Azaria. Just as I had selected the perfect stabbin’ knife and started walking back from lunch, I happened to pass NPH in the street! So all is forgiven, for now, at least, especially since he brought back news that Mr. Harris is returning for Harold and Kumar 3. At least until he makes me write about Jersey Shore again.
In Soviet Russia, Lion Eats You
As if Arizona didn’t have enough PR problems, a restaurant in Mesa has been caught serving up lion meat hamburgers. The owner of El Vinaio, Cameron Selogie, said that the lion-burgers were a special in honor of the World Cup, which is taking place in South Africa. Which would be kind of like serving Panda-meat pizza for the Olympics.
The meat comes from a free-range lion farm in Illinois, which downgrades the situation from horrifying and illegal to merely horrifying. I suppose some vegetarian types are going to protest that if we feel bad about eating lions, we should feel bad about eating pigs and chickens and things too, but there’s never been a Chicken King movie where the death of the dad chicken made me cry for a week in Kindergarden.
Sources: AV Club, Hollywood.com, UPI
WHAT IT’S ABOUT?
Year One centers on the exploits of two moronic early dudes clumsy hunter Zed and deadpan and dopey Oh. After Zed is banished from his village for eating the wrong thing Oh joins him on a journey over many miles of land and through the sands of time. They wind up in the biblical era (don’t ask how if you want to continue enjoying this thing) where they meet the likes of Cain and Abel become slaves and somehow wind up in forbidden Sodom. It’s not EXACTLY the "year one " but hey who’s counting?
WHO’S IN IT?
Jack Black is an obvious choice to play the Neanderthal idiot Zed. He looks like he was born into the role in fact and offers up the appropriate belching and farting to make you believe he’s a VERY primitive kind of guy. As his reluctant partner Oh Michael Cera does not stray far from the screen persona he has been building since Juno and even in caveman attire he still has the air of a confused high school nerd. His right-on deadpan delivery of his lines though is the one saving grace in this whole sorry enterprise. Casting this most contemporary of actors in the most period of pieces turns out to be inspired. As various biblical characters David Cross Christopher Mintz-Plasse (Superbad) Vinnie Jones and especially Hank Azaria (as the prophet Abraham) do what is required to squeeze the humor out of a bad situation. Even an uncredited Paul Rudd turns up as the doomed Abel to help keep Year One afloat and is actually quite funny for the few minutes he’s around.
Best idea was to put the nonplussed Cera into the movie. He’s not an obvious choice for this sort of thing and it’s nice to see him out of his comfort zone. He gets genuine laughs — an exceedingly rare occurrence in this concoction.
Director Harold Ramis (Ghostbusters Stripes) certainly knows his way around outrageous comedy situations but he doesn’t seem to know what to do with this one. It’s not enough to put a couple of funny comics in furs and cave attire without giving them funny lines. The fart jokes only go so far(t). Year One is so forgettable and lamentable that by the time the end credits roll you just want to head straight to the exits and forget what you’ve just sat through for 97 minutes.
Pick anything from the trailer or the TV spots because they contain the ONLY genuinely amusing bits in the picture.
NETFLIX OR MULTIPLEX?
Hmmmm let’s just say NEITHER.
The big-screen live-action adaptation mostly captures the look and feel of the ‘60s cartoon many of us grew up watching. It could have used a few more occurrences of our favorite line “Look out Speed! AH!” but oh well. As it goes Speed (Emile Hirsch) has grown up with motor oil pumping through his veins helping his Pops (John Goodman) make racecars and idolizing his older brother Rex (Scott Porter) a top-notch driver. Then tragedy strikes when Rex is seemingly killed in an accident. Heartbroken Speed is determined to take his place showing some serious skills on the track. His girlfriend Trixie (Christina Ricci) thinks he’s the bomb as do his mom (Susan Sarandon) younger brother Spritle (Paulie Litt) and pet chimpanzee Chim-Chim. But Speed is soon in for a rude awakening when he is introduced to the corrupt world of auto racing forcing him to team up with the mysterious Racer X (Matthew Fox) to make it right again. Go Speed go! The usually somber Hirsch--who is best known for his indie work in films such as Alpha Dog and Into the Wild--seems at first an odd choice to play Speed. But his seriousness works well against the campiness surrounding him especially in the more emotional moments. Same goes for Fox as the stoic Racer X. Still one can’t help but think of him as his Lost alter ego in a dark glasses and a mask. The rest of the cast just has way too much fun including Ricci as the cute-as-a-button-but-full-of-moxie Trixie Goodman as the blowhard Pops and especially young Litt as Spritle. Out of all Speed’s animated characters re-envisioned Litt does the best job capturing Spritle’s cartoon mischievousness. The monkey ain’t bad either. Chim-Chim AH! Oh those Wachowski brothers (Andy and Larry). They sure do like to come up with as many inventive ways to visually stimulate you as they can don’t they? Their Matrix series set CGI on fire--and now Speed Racer which quite literally takes you inside a video game the Wii or Xbox could only dream of ever creating. The film is virtual eye candy from start to finish--a mixture of Tim Burton-esque colorful sets wild adrenaline-filled special effects and constant camera movements. They may actually need to post a warning for those who suffer from motion sickness. However Speed’s main problem which is the same problem the Matrix franchise suffered from is its tendency to overanalyze the plot. The Wachowskis love to preach turning a scene about the racing world’s corrupt beginning into a 15-minute diatribe. They try to combine the campiness of the animated TV series with serious undertones but it only weighs the film down. You can feel the kids in the audience tapping their feet waiting for more action. So let’s just give the kids what they want: fast-paced excitement wrapped up in a colorful package.
Finally a brilliantly told fractured fairy tale for children and adults alike that does not feature a grouchy green orge anywhere. Once upon a time a young man sneaks into the mysterious magic kingdom of Stormhold that’s walled off from his quiet English village. He soon meets a lovely young lady who just so happens to be a princess enslaved by a not-so-wicked witch. Nine months later a basket is dropped on his doorstep. Yes this baby boy is the unexpected result of his one-night liasion with the royal lass. The boy grows up blissfully unaware of his regal roots so when he reaches manhood Tristan (Charlie Cox) doesn’t understand why he so drawn to the land on the other side of the Wall. He finally hops over the Wall when a star falls out of the sky and lands deep in the heart of Stormhold. His goal: to bring back the star as proof of his love for Victoria (Sienna Miller). Too bad this scheming temptress doesn’t think too much of the penniless and mild-mannered workingclass stiff. This being a fairy tale the star isn’t just a star. The star’s actually a beautiful celestial being named Yvaine (Claire Danes). And she fell to earth as part of a devious plan by Stormhold’s dying king (Peter O'Toole) to determine his successor. But the king’s scheming sons (Jason Flemying and Mark Strong) are not the only ones seeking Yvaine. The oh-so-wicked witch Lamia (Michelle Pfeiffer) needs Yvaine to help her restore her youth. So that means Tristan must become the hero he’s destined to become—and take on witches princes airbourne pirates (Robert De Niro’s Capt. Shakespeare) and shady black marketeers (The Office’s Ricky Gervais)—so he can return home to Victoria. But Cupid has other plans for Tristran and it’s not hard to guess what those are. If all stars took on the human form of Claire Danes many more of us would probably pursue a career in astronomy. But it doesn’t take a working knowledge of the Hubble telescope to see how relaxed and luminous Danes is when she’s not carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. And sparks definitely fly between Danes and Charlie Cox even when they’re at hurling hilarious insults at each other. Newcomer Cox makes a smooth transition from ill-at-ease lovesick puppy to swashbuckling hero. He also doesn’t seem to be intimidated at the prospect of staring down Robert De Niro. There’s always concern whenever De Niro takes on a comedic role for a big paycheck. He usually gets by with pure talent and nothing more. And when De Niro’s pirate crosses paths with Cox and Danes you immediately fear that he’s going to offer yet another variation on his tough gruff Alpha males from Analyze This and Meet the Parents. But he blindsides us by instead going all Jack Sparrow on us—that is if the old sea dog had no interest in the ladies—to deliriously campy effect. What with Hairspray and now Stardust Michelle Pfeiffer’s comeback seems to be predicated on getting in touch with her inner bitch. She’s splendidly nasty and scary as Lamia. And the uglier and older she gets the meaner and funnier she gets. Equally cruel—though more cheerfully so—is Sienna Miller. Providing small but amusing cameos are Gervais once again revealing an unparallel mastery of toadying and Peter O'Toole who kicks the bucket quicker than John Cleese’s King Harold does in Shrek the Third. There’s legitimate reason to question whether Layer Cake director Matthew Vaughn has what it takes to direct a big-budget effects-driven summer blockbuster. Remember after making his name producing or directing relatively inexpensive British crime capers Vaughn walked away from X-Men: The Last Stand. Judging by Stardust though Vaughn would have done a masterful job leading those misunderstood mutants into battle. Then again he couldn’t have done worse than Brett Ratner. Based on the graphic novel by Neil Gaiman and Charles Vess Stardust possesses both a big heart and an uncommon adventurous streak. Unlike the recent Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End which was too long and too cumbersome for its own good Stardust moves nimbly and confidently through a strange and wonderful land populated with noble heroes to cheer for fiendish villains to boo at and gorgeous damsels in distress to sigh over. Vaughn keeps us on the edge of our seats whenever Tristan must think or fight his way out of danger. But he invests as much time in making believe that Tristan and Yvaine are made for each other. He also strikes a fine balance between honoring the sword-and-sorcery genre while playfully sending up its many cliches. The humor’s a lot more risqué than the bedtime story that was The Princess Bride but most of the sexual innuendoes will zoom over the heads of those still too young to pick up on many of Shrek’s pop-cultural references. Clearly Stardust cannot escape all other comparisons to The Princess Bride but Stardust boasts more than enough magic and daring-do to win over those who remained enthralled to this day by Cary Elwes’ brave efforts to rescue a kidnapped Robin Wright Penn. So this is one fairy tale that richly deserves its happily ever after--and for that matter so does Vaughn.
Attempting to delve into one of Tinseltown’s most curious scandals--the mysterious suicide (or was it?) of the original TV Superman actor George Reeves--the story begins after Reeves (Ben Affleck) is found dead of a seemingly self-inflicted gunshot wound during a late night party in his Benedict Canyon home. The case then unfolds through the eyes of Louis Simo (Adrien Brody) a street-smart publicity hungry private dick hired by Reeves’ grieving mother. As Simo slowly peels back the layers of Reeves’ seemingly glamorous life he discovers an actor of charm talent and sophistication whose every opportunity for a big break fizzled forcing him to lead a frustrated existence slumming in the superhero show he deemed beneath him. Gradually identifying with Reeves’ failed expectations for himself Simo discovers a host of candidates who may have actually pulled the trigger on the actor including his young party girl paramour (Robin Tunney) his longtime lover and patron (Diane Lane) and his lover’s husband a powerfully connected studio “fixer” (Bob Hoskins). It is Brody not Affleck who carries the bulk of the film on his shoulders and the Oscar winner delivers a finely etched turn as Simo who’s fractured potential mirrors Reeves’ but quite simply Simo’s story isn’t nearly as dark or engaging as Reeves’ life or the mystery surrounding his death. Affleck an actor who has had his share of ups downs duds and disappointments in Hollywood delivers one of his most charming and fully realized performances to date even if his spot-on recreation of Reeves’ speech pattern is a bit distracting. The luminous Lane’s acting talents remain in full blossom in a character she’s well-suited to play—the aging beauty fearing the road ahead—and she commands every scene she’s in. Unfortunately there should have been many many more of them. She’s almost criminally underused. Hoskins more menacing then ever and the reliable stable of supporting players like Joe Spano are all top-notch as well; only Tunney apparently trying to channel both Betty Boop and Bette Davis simultaneously seems a bit off her game as the wannabe femme fatale. Best known for his strong turns helming many of the best episodes of television series such as The Sopranos Sex and the City and Six Feet Under first time feature director Allen Coulter’s cool assured hand and meticulous recreation of Cold War Los Angeles are major bonuses here. Even when Simo’s story sags in comparison to Reeves’ Coulter keeps us interested particularly when staging the Rashomon-like sequences depicting the various theories behind Reeves’ demise. But by skimping on Reeves’ story in favor of a less compelling fictional framework built around a private detective investigating the case we never see one key suspect’s possible murder scenario enacted visually and it comes off as a glaring omission.